Adventures of a Jedi Knight
by The Hippy Griff
Summary: Long before the carnage of the Mandalorian Wars, Meetra Surik was just an ordinary Jedi, one of thousands within the Order. After passing her Trials and rising to the rank of Jedi Knight, she heads to Ord Mantell for what is ostensibly a simple negotiation, but after meeting some old friends, her mission becomes far more complex than she could ever have expected...
1. Chapter 1

Looking out of the shuttle as it flew over the mountains, Meetra Surik finally realised just why Master Kavar had been so apologetic about her assignment here. Broadly speaking, Ord Mantell wasn't considered a tourist destination in the Republic, but even so, it looked utterly miserable. A furious downpour hammered the shuttle roof, occluding the view outside with wavy sheets of downpour, but from what Meetra could see, the landscape was mind-numbingly dull. The mountains weren't especially impressive no matter how you measured them, and yet they seemed to go on forever, a dreary expanse of grey peaks and valleys.

The most concerning part, however, wasn't the mountains but what lay between them: factories. They seemed to spread across the mountains like a cancer. Huge industrial complexes weren't normally built to be pretty, granted, but even so, it seemed like someone had gone out of their way to make these particular factories as offensively ugly as possible. They were asymmetric, with countless towers, landing pads and other structures providing a sense of disorder and chaos.

Meetra winced. The whole thing spoke of greed, of rushing to build factories without any care for reasonable planning or design. She didn't see any housing units, either, and the nearest cities had to be at least fifty kilometers away, which probably meant that the workers were living in the factories themselves. The whole thing stank of rampant greed and exploitation.

She could easily see what the rebels were angry at, and right now, Meetra didn't blame them.

Finally the shuttle began its landing sequence, touching down on a colossal landing pad that would've been big enough to hold a half dozen Republic cruisers at once. The factory it serviced, while as profoundly unattractive as the rest, at least had sheer size on its side. The place wasn't just built into a mountain; it had _become_ the mountain, and an unusually tall one at that, at least six kilometers tall from the base to the summit.

With a sigh, Meetra got out of her seat and moved to the opening hatch. "Thank you, pilot," she called back, but when no response came from the cockpit, she shrugged. Pulling up the hood of her cloak, she resigned herself to the inevitable and plunged into the rain. The sudden chill seemed to permeate her bones within a minute as Meetra walked (running would be unseemly for a Jedi after all, damn it) to the factory entrance. By the time she reached the safety of the open door, she was downright soaked, and the burly human standing just inside smirked.

"That's Ord Mantell rain for you," he huffed with amusement as Meetra shivered. "Every visitor needs to be reminded just how much the planet hates them at least once. I haven't seen the sun in weeks." He considered the short young woman for a moment, frowning. Her homespun robes and thick cloak were odd for someone who had just come from the high tech paradise of Coruscant. "The governor didn't give me anything except your name, Miss Surik. I hear that the Senate sent you? You're what, some fancy negotiator?"

At that, Meetra stood straight and looked the man in the eye, even though the bone-deep chill made her want to huddle up. "In a sense, Executive Gahlin. I was sent here by the authority of the Jedi High Council at the request of the Galactic Senate."

The executive's eyes widened, his mouth dropping open in shock. "You're a Jedi Knight?"

"Yes," Meetra said calmly, ignoring her damp brown hair as it drooped in front of her eyes. _Sure, I only passed the Trials a few weeks ago and this is my first mission, but he doesn't need to know that._ "The Senate would like to resolve this situation without further loss of life."

Gahlin nodded, still plainly a bit stunned to be talking to a Jedi. "Of...of course, Master Jedi, of course. Ah...come with me, please, this way." He hurriedly took the lead, guiding Meetra through the complex without any more conversation. They passed through surprisingly clean and sterile-looking corridors, with doors dotted along the sides at seemingly random intervals.

Curious, Meetra extended her senses out into the space around her and had to hold back a scowl. Despair, apathy and sheer boredom pervaded the Force and, by extension, her. Recalling her training, Meetra gently purged herself of the negative emotion, but not before analysing it carefully. It was clear that no matter what the Ord Mantell government might say, the Senate's suspicions were right. Something was very wrong here.

Finally they reached their destination, a large control room of some sort. Several rows of consoles were arrayed in front of a large screen, which displayed a map of the surrounding factories. A holotable was set in the space before the large screen, and Meetra followed the executive there. She had wondered whether his ostentatious jumpsuit (shiny blue-and-gold, festooned with red piping and a polished nametag) was merely an affectation of rank, but apparently not. Everybody seemed to wear them, colour-coded and individualised. The company seemed to care a great deal about appearances.

And yet they seemed to care far less for their workers' well-being. Meetra sensed the same negative emotions around her, mixed with the usual tinge of curiosity and faint hostility at the sudden appearance of a stranger. Many of them looked exhausted, wearing headsets as they wearily worked away. This was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a happy workforce.

"Master Jedi, this is the situation as it stands," Gahlin said, having recovered some composure at being in the center of his own authority. "The outlaws have seized this district, up here. They have six factories, four large warehouses and a small spaceport at their disposal in the crook of these mountains, just north of the Jummu range."

He pointed at a spot on the large map projected by the holotable, but try as she might, Meetra couldn't see the difference between one spot or another. She nodded, however, as if she understood perfectly. "The Jedi Council was worried that these people have access to military equipment. Is this accurate?"

Gahlin huffed. "Yeah, it is. My people have conducted an extensive study on the problem. We believe that they have access to...ah, where are those numbers! Annun Lei, get down there!"

At the barked summons, a far-too-attractive Twi'lek girl hurried down to the holotable with a datapad in hand, giving it to her superior without comment. She flashed a polite smile at Meetra, but there was no denying the anxiety in her eyes or her faint fear when she looked Gahmin in the eye. Meetra didn't comment, keeping her hood up and her expression very carefully serene.

"Ah, yes," Gahmin grumbled as he worked the datapad. "Plenty of small arms. Blasters, sonic weapons, vibroswords, grenades of all kinds. We export all of this to the Republic military and some planetary defence militias. There are also a few artillery pieces, a few dozen armed speeders, some heavy repeating blasters. There are no battle droids, though, so that's a relief, eh? No need to fight soulless machines with your laser sword!"

Gahlin chuckled, but seeing his poor attempt at a joke bounce off Meetra's disinterested exterior, he cleared his throat and looked back down at the list. "They...ah...also have ion weapons of all kinds, lots of heavy demolitions, anti-personnel and anti-vehicular mines, some unarmed freighters...oh. And they have a battalion of Corellian main battle tanks."

Having maintained her composure through the lengthy list, Meetra finally lost it at the last. "Tanks!?"

"Yup," Gahlin shrugged. "They've been in storage since the Sith War. We just maintain them, keep them serviced in case the Republic needs them again." He slowly smiled at seeing Meetra's obvious shock. "Is that a problem, Master Jedi?"

"No," Meetra said, recovering her own composure. _Yes it is! I can't defend myself against tanks with just a lightsaber!_ She took a breath to steady herself before looking back at the map. "Very well, Executive Gahlin. Have these people hurt anyone yet?"

The executive nodded, this time showing very real anger. "You're damned right they have. Six people were murdered when they took control of the district! Six! Two foremen, three directors and one director's husband! They were beaten to death by a mob on the factory floor. We watched it live on the security cams. It was...it was vile!" The man shuddered, clenching his fist, and despite her contempt for the man, Meetra found that she actually believed him. He really was disgusted and outraged at the casual brutality of the murders.

"I promise, those responsible will face justice for their crimes," she said before looking back at the map. "For now, please send a message to the rebels. Inform them that a representative of the Jedi Order is on her way to mediate this dispute and ensure a peaceful outcome that is satisfactory to all parties."

"Mediate?" Gahlin said with a frown. "But I thought you were going to negotiate their surrender? These people are criminals, Jedi."

Meetra glanced at him curiously. "If that is so, then why have you not permitted the police to deal with crisis?

Gahlin frowned. "Those incompetent buffoons? They'd be more likely to join the rebels than fix the problem. But Jedi, we need you to end this crisis! That is why the Senate sent you! Our production quotas are suffering every hour that this continues, and our factories supply the entire Republic!"

The executive hesitated, plainly thinking hard, before finally finding the resolve to make a decision. He stepped up close to Meetra, towering over her with his bulky frame and waggled an angry finger in front of her face. "Listen, close, Jedi. You've got your fancy laser sword and your Force powers, so use 'em. If you don't fix this problem, if you just go over there to schedule some useless talks, then I will charge you with dereliction of duty for failing to discharge your responsibilities. I will arrest you, Jedi."

Meetra didn't budge, simply looking up at the man with a supremely unimpressed gaze. "You should never make a threat that you won't enforce," she said mildly.

"I will!" Gahlin hissed. "That's what you Jedi types are for, right? Go over there and make those criminals surrender! I am ordering you, Jedi!"

"No." The word wasn't spoken loudly, but Meetra nevertheless sensed the surprise and concealed merriment around them as the workers watched the confrontation unfold. Gahlin continued glaring, but when Meetra didn't respond, he pulled out his comnlink and pressed a large red button.

Within a minute, a half dozen armed guards rushed into the control room. They needed only a moment to analyse the situation and identify the threat before swiftly moving to surround Meetra, their blaster rifles aimed directly for her heart. Gahlin smirked.

Still, Meetra didn't move. She reached into the Force again, sensing the determination and confidence of the guards, a stark contrast to the rest of the workers. _Logical. Keep the people with the guns happy_.

The threat was real enough. Even with the Force, Meetra would be very hard pressed to deflect or dodge six shooters at once, especially from all around her. Their lasers would penetrate her robes and kill her instantly. She could move first and strike out; if she was careful, she'd only have to lop off some arms and legs rather than kill them. Still, such a tactic was of the Dark Side. It was not the Jedi way to attack.

Instead, Meetra simply looked up into Gahlin's eyes, ignoring the flutter of nerves in her stomach. She wasn't strong enough in the Force to affect his mind, not when he was so frightened and determined, so instead she chose to trust the Force itself.

"No," she repeated in the same mild tone. It took everything she had to stay still, to trust that nigh undetectable feeling that she was safe despite the very lethal weapons aimed at her heart.

The moment hung on a precipice. Gahlin sneered as he crossed his arms. The guards steadied their rifles, their fingers on the triggers, resolving themselves to the fact that this threat would not come quietly. Meetra focused on keeping her hands still, not letting her right hand drift to her lightsaber.

Gahlin's eyes locked on Meetra's. His hurried calculation of how best to emerge from this situation froze in the face of her iron determination. Even without the Force, she could see the moment when his mind grew larger, beyond this factory, beyond Ord Mantell, to the consequences of threatening a Jedi Knight, and what it meant when that Jedi refused to buckle to his bullying.

His eyes dropped and his posture sagged. All at once, the tension broke. Around Meetra, all six guards lowered their weapons, seeing their supervisor's silent surrender.

"I apologise, Jedi," Gahlin said reluctantly. The guards started, stunned that they'd just been aiming their blasters at a Jedi. The executive waved them away, his confidence shattered, his eyes averted. In a way, Meetra felt sorry for him. It was likely the first time in a while that anyone had defied his authority, and the reality check was a harsh one.

* * *

Three hours later, Meetra almost wished that she'd simply let herself get arrested. At least a cell would be _dry_.

After the shuttle dropped her off, she had a three kilometer hike through a valley to reach the main rebel factory. While hardly a trial under normal conditions, the thunderstorm had, if anything, gotten worse since she'd landed on the planet. The night was strewn with thunder, wind and relentless freezing rain, all of which left Meetra a thoroughly sodden mess within a minute of leaving the shuttle.

_I am so getting you back for this one, Kavar_.

The valley floor was, of course, completely pitch black and strewn with slippery rocks, to the point that she had to rely heavily on the Force to avoid slipping. Meetra nearly gave in to the temptation to ignite her lightsaber for some light, but she resisted. Even setting aside how it would dispel the mystical popular image of the Jedi, the same reputation that had cowed Gahlin, the rebels up ahead would grow wary at the sight of the weapon held by an envoy of peace. It was their paranoia about a potential attack that had required Meetra to land so far away, so she resolved to get by without her lightsaber.

Still, it took deep concentration for Meetra to stay focused on the Force enough to navigate. A momentary curse at her rain-sodden boots distracted her enough to lose her balance, scraping her hand as she caught herself on another rock. Cursing even louder, Meetra looked up at the mountains above as they were momentarily lit by lightning.

Another five hundred meters to go.

_Maybe this was Vrook's idea? He never did like me. I'll need to ask Atris when I get home._

Another fall, this time into a deep pool between two boulders that was like an ice shock to her legs and waist..She tried to climb out, slipped and fell face first into the freezing water, spluttering as she emerged from it, flailing wildly.

_KRIFFING VROOK!_

Eventually, as thoroughly frozen and drenched as she'd ever been in her life, Meetra arrived at the factory. Two hulking battle tanks flanked the building entrance, their armoured hulls floating off their ground and their large laser cannons aimed directly at her. This time, Meetra didn't even think about her lightsaber. It would be useless against those monsters.

Nevertheless, the tanks didn't fire, instead merely tracking Meetra as she walked to the door. It opened and she didn't hesitate to step inside, unable to resist a deep sigh of relief at the sudden surge of warmth. The entrance foyer was large, and the rebels had used every bit of it to transform into a defensive zone. In a half crescent around the door were barricades and armed troops, more than a dozen, all of whom (again) had weapons pointed at Meetra's heart.

By now, however, she was past caring. The door closed behind her, and Meetra promptly lowered her hood to let her brown hair out of its ponytail. Using her hands to wrench some water out of the hair, she looked out at the various armed individuals around her.

"I am Meetra Surik, an envoy of the Galactic Senate," she called out mildly. "I am here to mediate this dispute and try to secure a peaceful solution that is acceptable to all parties." She shook her head wildly, letting her hair whip around in a vain attempt to dry it. Sweeping her hair back into something respectable, she added brightly, "May I speak to your leaders?"

On cue, a tall Rodian stepped out of the line, his large eyes fixed on Meetra. He was armed and armoured like a Republic soldier, but his posture and nervous twitches told a different story; this was a man unaccustomed to any kind of military.

"I am Kleh Vlenpeeth, and I represent the free workers of Exeton Industries Facility B-551," the Rodian said cautiously. He looked around at everyone else, and with a gesture, he ordered them to lower their weapons. "You are brave to come here alone. I'm glad that the Republic isn't ignoring us."

"I hope that we can work this out," Meetra said pleasantly, smiling. It was all standard diplomatic talk, just like she'd been trained in as a youngling on Dantooine. She took off her soaked cloak to allow her tan and brown robes to dry, and at the sight of the long lightsaber hilt on her hip, the Rodian leader's large eyes widened. Then he quirked his head, frowning.

"You are a Jedi?" he said, confused.

"Yes," Meetra said as she folded her cloak over one arm, still dripping water onto the floor. "Why does that surprise you?"

He shrugged and waved Meetra forward, walking with her through the line. "Because two of your comrades are already here to resolve this crisis. Don't you people talk to each other?"

Perplexed, Meetra walked through the line and followed the Rodian's gaze towards a doorway adjacent to the foyer. In front of it were two men; one tall and muscular, the other shorter and more lithe, both dressed in dry robes.

"Revan?" Meetra said in shock.


	2. Chapter 2

"What are you doing here, guys?" Meetra asked. At her request the three Jedi had been brought to a vacant office for some privacy, and Revan sat on a desk with his usual irreverence while Alek stood next to Meetra. The taller man waited a beat for Revan to respond, glanced at him, saw the knowing smirk and snorted.

"You're an idiot, Rev," he informed Revan. "You choose to come here, so you get to explain why."

Revan shrugged, smiling. "Okay okay, sorry. Come on, though, you have to admit, this is exciting. How often do we get such direct signs of the will of the Force?"

Meetra glanced at Alek in askance, but he simply shook his bald head in exasperation. Bemused, Meetra rolled her eyes. Without caring a whit, she started taking off her rain-sodden robes. At Revan and Alek's stares, she glared daggers at them.

"I'm cold and wet, so don't say a word," she warned. "You're Jedi, so use that Jedi serenity and _keep your eyes up_."

Revan and Alek looked at each other. "She's scary when she's mad," Revan commented.

"Very," Alek agreed. "Shall we do what the scary lady says?"

"Sounds good to me," Revan replied, grinning.

Now stripped down to her underwear, a utilitarian bra with short pants, Meetra scowled at them as she laid her robes and boots out on a portable heater, handing Alek her lightsaber for safe keeping. "Hilarious. I'll remember this, guys. Now answer the question."

Mollified, Revan sobered. "The Council ordered us to track down a Sith cult after they started causing trouble on Onderon. We've been hunting them for two months."

"A Sith cult? Some old survivors from Exar Kun's faction?" Meetra asked curiously. She moved closer to the heater, relishing in the heat.

"I doubt it," Alek said, shrugging his large shoulders. The brown robes looked almost comical on his bulky frame, especially with the ever-present twinkle in his eye. "We're not talking about Sith Lords here."

"They ran from a bunch of law enforcement officers on Serroco," Revan said. With his legs dangling off the table, he looked as carefree as could be. "Everything about their behaviour suggests weakness. There are definitely Force sensitives leading them but they're avoiding any form of conflict, especially with the Jedi."

Alek snorted. "They're probably a bunch of weird folk who think that Exar Kun was a sacred krayt dragon or something. We've seen weirder things. Remember me telling you about that drug addict on Tatooine?"

Meetra grinned. "The one who knocked Rev on his ass with the Force while singing about bantha soup? Sure, how can I forget? I just wish you'd remembered to take a picture."

Alek laughed along with her, and Revan sighed as he hopped off the desk at his friends' mockery. "Okay, enough joking around. Meetra, you know that this isn't a coincidence. The Force brought you here for a reason, and I think it's to help us. The cult is here looking for something, a Sith artifact. It could be a holocron, or something worse, but either way, we can't let them get to it. A lot of people could get hurt."

Meetra nodded as she ran her hands through her hair, which was still frustratingly damp. "Why didn't you report to the Council? They didn't tell me that any other Jedi were on the planet."

Alek shrugged. "We haven't had time. We landed yesterday, but we had no idea about this worker rebellion. They wouldn't let us get a message out."

"They nearly shot us down, actually," Revan said. "Alek had to do some very fancy flying and talking to get us down safely."

"And you were about as useful as a moisture vaporator on an ocean," Alek grumbled. "The most powerful Jedi of our generation and all he did was complain the entire time."

Looking between her two friends as they bantered, Meetra smiled. She hadn't seen them in months, since she'd begun training for the trials for knighthood, and she really had missed them. "Okay, okay, guys. Fine. I'll help. But only if you help me with my mission afterwards."

"Negotiations?" Revan said with distaste. At Alek's warning look, he sighed. "Oh, fair enough. Deal. If the Force brought you to help us, then it's probably the will of the Force that we help you too. It'd balance the scales of the situation." He paused as Meetra bent over to check if her boots had dried, unintentionally displaying her rear end, and he added wryly, "Of course, if you turn up to the negotiations as you are, that'd speed them up…"

Meetra groaned as she stood back up. "Alek?" she asked in exasperation. He promptly obliged with a firm slap to the back of Revan's hand. "Thank you. You're an idiot, Rev."

Rubbing the back of his head, Revan looked at Alek in irritation. "Did you really have to hit me so hard, Mal?"

With a perfect straight face, Alek simply pointed at Meetra. "Scary lady," he said simply.

* * *

A few hours later, after a meal and some sleep, the three Jedi stood at the edge of a deep circular hole in the ground. The rain had since stopped as the sun rose, to general relief. The rebel miners and their adversaries had been distinctly unimpressed at the delay to the negotiations, but Revan had persuaded them that the Jedi had a critical issue to take care of first. For all his lightheartedness, he'd always had a knack for persuasion when the need arose.

There was no joking here, though, not now. With their cloaks on and their hoods up, Revan, Alek and Meetra were deadly serious as they gazed into the pit.

"The Dark Side is strong here," Alek said quietly.

"Yes," Meetra agreed reluctantly. She wasn't as sensitive to the Force as her friends, but even she felt it, a subtle _wrongness_ at the back of her mind. "I can't isolate it, though. It's strong, but also...hidden? I don't know what it is."

"Let go of it," Revan instructed. "Stop looking for it directly. Let the Force guide your senses to it. See the structure in it, the will at its heart." He glanced at Meetra and Alek, but they shook their heads, unable to match his perceptions, and he sighed. "It's a Sith artifact. It has to be. It's not a holocron though. I studied one last year at the Temple, and that felt completely different."

Alek stepped forward first. "Let's do it, then," he said, leading the way down the walkway that ringed the hole.

In the end, finding the artifact wasn't hard at all. In fact, it was remarkably easy. The three Jedi followed the walkway down to the very bottom of the hole, then to a cave that the miners had dug. The artifact waited at the end of the tunnel, an ornate red-and-black orb atop a plinth. The orb exuded faint malevolence, a mix of anger, greed, lust and other emotions. Dark whispers tickled the Jedi minds, too subtle to discern any words, but impossible to ignore.

"This is obviously Sith," Alek said cautiously. "No matter how drunk the miners are, even they should've seen that. Why wouldn't they report it to the Republic? Or at least extract the thing to sell on the black market?"

To Alek's side, Revan sighed. "Come on, Mal. You know the answer to that."

Alek glanced at Meetra, who only smiled weakly and shrugged. Revan looked between them in confusion, then lowered his hood and very pointedly rolled his eyes.

"Trap."

"Trap?" Meetra repeated, alarmed as she looked at Alek, who nodded in resignation.

"Trap," he agreed wearily.

Then six more voices behind them repeated the word together: "Trap."

The three Jedi spun round to see six hooded figures standing before them, blocking them off from the cave exit. The cheap mine lighting cast harsh shadows, showing little, but the light reflected off the silver hilts in their hands.

All six were armed with lightsabers.

"The cult of Exar Kun," Revan said curiously. In contrast to Alek and Meetra, who eyed the cultists warily, he only seemed intrigued. "You certainly took your time. As traps go, this was a bit elaborate."

One of the center cultists chuckled. "Perhaps, Jedi, but it succeeded. You have nowhere to run."

Revan smiled, amused. "Nor do you. Would you be interested in surrendering now?"

Another of the cultists snorted. "You are outmatched and outnumbered, yet you offer surrender? Fool. Has the arrogance of the Jedi grown so much? Didn't Exar Kun slaughter enough of you to encourage humility?"

"Outnumbered? Yes. Outmatched? Hardly." Revan's tone was mildly reproachful. "I took great pains to conceal our numbers and identities while hunting you. You were expecting just one ordinary Jedi Knight, someone whom you could overwhelm in close quarters. You were not expecting _three_, least of all two of the finest duellists in the Order. My trap has closed on you perfectly...better than I expected, in fact."

Ignoring the compliment (if it even was one, knowing Revan's ego; he always had thought more of his duelling skills than was warranted), Meetra glanced at Alek. The irritated hunch of his shoulders made it clear that Revan, true to form, had not told his friend the plan. It was easy to see that there would be considerable shouting coming Revan's way in the near future.

One of the cultists stepped forward, drawing an immediate reaction from Meetra and Alek who moved their right feet back, ready to move in an instant. Instead, though, the cultist raised his hand.

"You do not know what the Orb is, do you?" the cultist, a woman, said derisively, her blue-skinned palm pointed directly at the artifact. With her hood down, they couldn't see her face, but it was easy to imagine the sinister smile. "It was designed by Ulic Qel-Droma himself."

"A weapon," Meetra muttered, her eyes flicking between each cultist in turn.

The cultists laughed then, a mocking sound. "Hardly so simple, little Jedi! The Sidious Orb affects entire cities! It sows dissent, anger, frustration, depression, fear. It is subtle, it works in the long-term...but in mere weeks, it can turn a peaceful city into a seething warzone. A Jedi's powers would be weakened amidst the raw power of the Dark Side...and the city would become Sith. A dozen infiltrators could turn an entire world to anarchy within months."

"The worker rebellion," Alek cursed. "That was the artifact."

Her palm turned upwards. "Indeed. Of course, when you need results a little more quickly…"

"No!" Revan shouted, but it was useless; the cultist reached out with the Force and pulsed her will into the Orb. The Force rippled in response, and all three Jedi shuddered as the Dark Side raged around them. Without even thinking, Meetra and Alek drew and ignited their lightsabers, matched by their foes. Six red-bladed lightsabers burned in opposition to two blue, Alek's a single hilt while Meetra's hilt was longer, two blue blades stemming from both ends.

Revan, however, had other priorities. "The Orb is going to start the fighting up there!" he shouted as he turned around, rushing to the artifact. "Hold them off while I deactivate it!"

As one the Sith rushed Meetra and Alek, and the battle was joined. Four of them focused on Meetra, perhaps hoping to overwhelm her first. They attacked fiercely, only to be confounded by Meetra's defensive patterns, her blades mixing between blocks and counterattacks with fluid ease, holding them back.

Focused on her own fight, Meetra was surprised to see Alek jump in front of her, smashing away at all four of them with sheer brute strength. His lightsaber never stopped moving, attacking each of the cultists in turn and smashing them aside, the bladework so skillful and natural that Meetra couldn't help but admire it for a moment.

The momentary distraction was almost lethal; a twinge from the Force was all the warning she had. Meetra spun around, barely catching the strike that would've decapitated her, launched from Alek's erstwhile opponents. The cultist snarled, her hood dropped, revealing that she was a Twi'lek. Anger and fear raged in her eyes as she attacked again, while her fellow cultist angled to the side to help, but Meetra was done just defending herself.

Now with just two opponents, she unleashed a blistering assault, focusing on the Twi'lek. The cultist, by far the inferior swordswoman, was forced back, her ally unable to get past Meetra's lightsaber. It took only moments before Meetra's blue blade looped around and struck the cultist's hilt, destroying the lightsaber, followed soon after by a kick and a punch that stunned the woman into a daze.

Meetra turned back to focus on her remaining opponent, noting absently that Alek had already dispatched two of his own foes, leaving them unconscious on the ground. For all their bluster and style, the cultists were novices at best, individually barely a match for a teenage Padawan. Against skilled Jedi Knights, they were almost helpless even with superior numbers.

Then the Force reacted again as a wave of power rippled around them. Everybody hesitated, disengaging instinctively. The lines were reformed; Meetra and Alek on one side, the three remaining cultists on the other. They were much less impressive now. One of them, a human male, had a large bruise over one eye from Alek's massive fist and looked unsteady on his feet.

Then Revan stepped up between Meetra and Alek. He unclipped his own lightsaber and ignited it, pointing its green blade outwards, the weapon humming menacingly.

"Surrender," he said coldly. "Your friends have been lucky so far. We've managed to avoid hurting them too badly, but lightsaber combat is dangerous. You cannot win this fight, and if you try to continue, you may lose a limb...or you could die."

The cultists looked at the Orb, followed by Meetra and Alek, but the artifact was now dormant. In the same instant, all three of them sagged. They looked at each other, sharing some unspoken communication, then slowly they switched their lightsabers switched off and, reluctantly, they surrendered their weapons. It took only a minute to secure the prisoners with restraints; fortunately, all Jedi Knights were expected to have cuffs on their person for just such an occurrence. Lumped together in a corner, three of them semi-conscious and groggy, the six cultists made for a distinctly less imposing presence than before.

"What now?" Meetra asked after they were done. She looked back at Revan, who was carefully removing the Sidious Orb from its plinth and placing it in a small cloth bag.

"There's a Republic battleship in orbit," he answered. "Their soldiers can secure these guys and bring them to Coruscant. The Council and the courts can figure out the rest."

Together, the three of them began walking towards the tunnel exit. "That cult was a disappointment," Alek commented sadly. "Two months of tracking them down and that is all they can manage?"

Meetra laughed. "Alek, did you really _want _a big fight where we all nearly die?"

"No," Alek said a bit too quickly as they reached the tunnel exit, but then he reconsidered. "Well, okay, maybe a little bit. Where's the fun in it if the missions are so easy?" He sighed as they got to the center of the pit, which was littered with mining equipment and other detritus, and he pulled out his commlink. "I'll call the _Leviathan_."

Grinning, Meetra crossed her arms and glanced at Revan. Strangely he seemed deep in thought, but just as he opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, he looked up into the sunlit shaft...and his mouth dropped open.

Meetra followed his eyes and gasped. Above them, stood on the scaffolded walkway that ringed through the mine shaft, were soldiers. There were dozens of them...many dozens. More than a hundred. Every single one was armed; blasters, grenades, rocket launchers, ion weapons, sonic blasters, weapons that Meetra didn't even recognise. The three Jedi were completely exposed in the open, surrounded and impossibly outnumbered. Even together, they wouldn't last ten seconds against such an onslaught.

"I believe that you mentioned a trap, young Revan," a refined, articulate voice teased. The voice came from ahead of them as a man stepped out from behind a crate. He was an older human, his hair almost entirely silver, his face bearing his age with distinguished handsomeness, his clothing fashionable. If not for the ornate lightsaber on his hip, he could've been easily mistaken for a wealthy gentleman from Coruscant.

"It did seem like a good idea at the time," Revan replied with a tight smile. He glanced at Alek, then flashed a reassuring look at Meetra before stepping forward. "And technically, it did work. Who are you, anyway? All of the important Sith died years ago."

The old man smiled. "Assaulting my ego, young Jedi? That is hardly dignified of you. I was once a Jedi Master, you know, long ago. If the rumours about your intellect are accurate, then you can guess who, hm?"

"Master Lephim," Revan muttered. Behind him, Meetra felt her stomach tighten anxiously, and as she glanced at Alek, she saw the same anxiety in his eyes. Lephim had been a very powerful Jedi, once, a brilliant lightsaber artist and instructor at the Temple before his disappearance so many years ago.

"Revan, please," Lephim admonished gently, with a schoolteacher's condescension. "It's _Lord _Lephim. Now, as entertaining as it would be to battle you all, I see no point in such theatrics. You would not be able to defeat me, of course, even together, but I have no desire to kill such promising young Jedi."

Then the smile shifted to malevolence. "Now, what is that you said to my poor apprentices? 'You cannot win this fight. If you try, you may lose a limb...or even die." Lephim held out a hand, and with it, Meetra felt the Dark Side gather its strength in him, like the calm before the storm. "Surrender your swords, Jedi, or my followers will see you dead before you can move five meters."

The moment hung on the precipice. Meetra glanced at Alek, read his eyes, and saw his thoughts, the determined clench of his jaw. If they were going to go out, they'd go out proud, fighting to the end. She nodded minutely, relaxing her body for the moment…

"No." Revan's word, simple as it was, provoked confusion. Lephim frowned, then sighed.

"Revan, please," he said wearily. He raised his hand, and in an instant, a hundred weapons were aimed downward at the Jedi.

Revan, however, just smiled. "I said no," he repeated mildly. "You accounted for everything, Lephim, with one exception." Then Meetra felt it; aside from Lephim's dark power, the raging supremacy of hate, another storm slowly, silently brewed. She felt it extending outward, upward, up through the entire mine shaft, subtle and pervasive, but tense with energy.

Then Revan raised his own hand. "You failed to account for _me._" Then the Force seemed to _ignite_, a blazing web of invisible energy all around them, as Revan called out loudly, authoritatively,: "You shall drop your weapons."

Then a hundred voices repeated in eerie symphony: "I shall drop my weapon." A moment later, the shaft was filled with the _clack clack clack_ of weapons being dropped to the bottom of the shaft, a rain of metal upon the rock. Meetra was stunned. She couldn't believe it. Above them, the suddenly disarmed cultists were completely dumbstruck by what they'd just done, looking at each other in bewilderment. Meetra looked ahead, and Lephim seemed just as shocked as her, his eyes wide.

"Impossible," the Sith Lord said faintly, staring at Revan. "Impossible." Without warning, Revan collapsed, and Lephim's handsome features were distorted by anger as he raised his hands, fingers splayed and aimed at the fallen Jedi.

Before he could do anything, however, Meetra stepped in front of Revan, drawing her own lightsaber, matched by Alek. "You will not harm him, Sith," she declared firmly over the hum of the lightsabers.

Lephim hesitated, scowling, before lowering his hands. "So be it," he said coldly before looking back up at his followers. "Stay where you are! Do not interfere! Witness the deaths of these Jedi! Drink in the sight of their fall, their humiliation!" The Sith Lord drew his lightsaber in a fluid motion, the red blade humming with menace, eyeing his prey with a lustful hunger.

"Blast it, Meetra, he's unconscious," Alek said with a worried tone. Meetra glanced to the side and indeed, he was crouched over Revan. "We can't fight this guy and defend Rev at the same time. You need to duel him. I can do a better job of protecting Rev than you can."

"What?" Meetra hissed, keeping her eyes locked on Lephim as he began to circle the Jedi, his lightsaber teasing him with an elegant motion. "Alek, you're a better duellist than I am!"

Alek snorted. "Yeah, probably, but I know you." Meetra risked flicking her eyes back down at him, meeting Alek's blue eyes, and her heart skipped at what she saw: confidence. Complete, unswerving confidence, confidence so total that it was unnerving. "You're Meetra Surik, and the Force is with you, so beat this guy. This is who you are."

A twinge from the Force alerted Meetra and she flicked her lightsaber, deflecting a probing stab from Lephim, but the Sith Lord kept his distance, still only taunting them. She could scarcely believe what she was about to do, and looking at the Sith, she also felt the great dark storm that brewed within the old man. The Dark Side, refined to perfection, more powerful than anything Meetra could even imagine matching, wielded by a man who'd mastered lightsaber combat before she'd even been born.

Then she looked back at Revan, unconscious on the ground. She saw Alek nod, crouched and holding his own lightsaber defensively over his friend's body. She took a breath, felt the effortless serenity of the Force enter her...and she attacked.

Meetra fell upon Lephim with a blistering assault, instantly driving him on the back foot, attacking relentlessly with her double-sided lightsaber, slashing and stabbing with sheer brute aggression. The blue blades crashed upon the red again and again, driving the Sith back as Meetra dodged his ripostes only to immediately launch into yet more attacks. Her body itself became a weapon as, with the Force roaring through her, she crouched, rolled, leapt and danced with impossible speed, overwhelming her opponent through sheer ferocity and vivacity, forcing him to even avoid kicks, punches, elbows and knees.

Step by step, the Sith was driven back, and the small part of Meetra's mind not consumed by the serenity of the Force noted the worry on his wizened features. His Dark storm was being matched by her own, _out_matched, the Force itself using Meetra as its conduit. So consumed by it was Meetra's mind that when she finally did connect, landing an acrobatic kick to the old man's chin and sending him flying backward, it took her a moment to even realise what had happened.

So consumed was she, however, that Meetra didn't see the counterattack until it was too late as she ran at him. Getting up off the ground, Lephim retaliated with a searing flash of Force lightning from his free hand that Meetra was too distracted to even attempt to block it. It struck her like white-hot fire. Meetra screamed as she fell to the ground, jerking uncontrollably from the bolts of hate-charged lightning.

"Impressive...Jedi," Lephim panted. Her muscles still constricting painfully, Meetra rushed back to her feet, wincing as she struggled to raise her lightsaber to guard despite her shaking hands. "I don't think that I've ever seen such an impressive display of Juyo." His eyes flicked to Meetra's side and she frantically looked for her friends, but Alek was still there, his lightsaber still lit and held defensively over Revan. The big bald doofus looked far from his usual happy self, though, glaring at Lephim with deep frustration, desperate to enter the fight but unable to abandon his friend.

"Now, though, young Meetra...I do believe it is my turn," Lephim taunted, smiling.

Meetra's hands were still shaking as Lephim stepped forward, his pace deliberately slow. Only now, shocked out of the Force trance, did she hear the yells, cheers and catcalls from the cultists above, and suddenly, Meetra felt very, very small, holding her lightsaber in front of her, clenching the hilt hard to control the shakes. The impossibility of winning this struck her anew; even the Masters of the Council would struggle to defeat one such as him!

Lephim's smile was mocking. His red blade slashed with an almost lazy strike, blocked easily by Meetra, but she was then nearly beheaded by the blazing speed of his follow up attack, only just ducking underneath it. She tried to retaliate but Lephim was too canny, and without the incredible speed afforded by the Force trance, Meetra was too slow, her counterattacks missing entirely. The old man was more than three times her age and still faster, sidestepping with ease, his smile growing into a smirk.

More attacks came, all of which came far too close to ending the duel instantly, and Meetra felt the sweat on her back as she desperately tried to defend herself. This time Meetra saw the Force lightning coming and brought her saber to guard, but she realised a millisecond later that it was a mere feint and only a clumsy backward roll saved her from another lethal stroke by the red blade. Still, it didn't matter; she was being driven backwards, towards Alek and Revan, and she couldn't retreat any further than that. If Alek was forced to fight him, he might well win, but Revan's unconscious body would be completely vulnerable in the interim.

_Revan_. _Alek_.

Again Lephim attacked, the red blade flicking through an overhead feint before twirling into an elegant stab, but Meetra caught the attack, their lightsabers locking, strength against strength. Meetra was stronger at first, her blue blade pushing against his, but then she felt the Force pulse around her, a flash of arrogance and sheer murderous hate. The red blade began to push back harder, then yet harder, and Meetra gasped at the effort required to keep it from forcing her own lightsaber back into her shoulder.

_Revan. Alek._

Meetra broke the saber lock and spun, twirling her unique lightsaber wildly, forcing the Sith Lord back a step. Instantly she stepped forward and launched an assault that caught Lephim by surprise, putting him on the defensive once more for a few seconds before he managed a riposte, forcing some distance between them. The old man laughed, exhilarated.

"_Most _impressive, young Jedi!" he chuckled. "Given a few more years, you might have become one of the finest that the Order ever produced! It is a shame to kill you, but I shall. First you, then Alek, then the famous Revan." His smile turned predatory as he looked upon them, and Meetra gripped her lightsaber even tighter. She glanced back at her friends again, Alek still as he was, but now Revan was at least conscious now. He was clearly very weak, but there was strength in his green eyes as he gazed at Meetra.

He didn't have to say anything for her to understand. He never had to.

"Alek. Revan," Meetra breathed out, her hands still shaking more from fear than shock , but she forced herself to accept the fear. This time, she didn't look at her friends. She looked directly at Lephim, into his eyes, the pupils a sickly yellow, corrupted by the Dark Side. He was frightened too, even if he didn't show it. Meetra could feel it in the dark maelstrom that swirled around and within the man, a great tempest of arrogant rage, bitter hatred...and fear. Shameful fear. Lephim hesitated as she met his eyes, and for just a second, the mask slipped, the red lightsaber dipping.

Meetra felt the Force enter her, past the fear. She breathed out again and brought her lightsaber around, resolving herself. She didn't know what would happen. She couldn't sense it in the Force, couldn't see who would prevail. She might not even live past the next minute.

Nevertheless, she heard Revan's unspoken message: _trust the Force._

So she did. Meetra stepped forward and attacked, this time with a slower but stronger assault, her feet squarely planted, moving forward with the inevitability of a battle droid. The lightsabers buzzed and sparked wildly, sounding unnaturally loud in the canyon as the spectators had grown silent. Lephim was as canny as ever and nearly got through a slash within centimeters of her stomach before she caught the clever riposte, but Meetra ignored the close call and kept up the assault. Again, he nearly got through, but again, Meetra forced herself to ignore her fear.

_Alek. Revan!_

It was over in an instant: a fraction of a second, a whirling of thrumming lightsabers, a grunt, a lightning fast stab and two blue blades spinning...and then the heavy _thwap _of a head falling to the ground, followed by the body it had just been connected to. Panting, Meetra just froze, staring down at her fallen foe, her arms still jerking from adrenaline.

"Meetra?" Alek's gentle voice prodded Meetra out of her fugue, switching off her lightsaber. It took her three tries to clip the long weapon back onto her belt. Without even thinking about it, she used the Force to pull Lephim's ornate lightsaber to her, the hilt slapping into her hand with a satisfying _thud _before clipping it onto her belt. Odd. She usually couldn't pull something with the Force that easily.

"Meetra," Alek called out again from behind her, a little more firmly. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," Meetra said hurriedly, turning back round, her pulse still hammering painfully in her ears. She turned around and hurried to her friends, crouching down with Alek. "Rev, how are you doing?"

Sitting on the rocky ground, his robes now filthy from the shaft floor, the famous Revan made for a rather undignified sight, but he grinned nevertheless. "I'll be fine," he said, his voice thin from fatigue as he pulled his bag around, glancing inside to check the Orb. "That trick just took a lot of me. I won't be doing much for the next..._ow_...the next week except for eating and sleeping. Damn, that really hurts."

Alek grunted in irritation. "Don't count on me taking care of you. That's what med droids are for." He glanced at Meetra and his eyes widened as he looked at her neck. "Don't you feel that, Mee-Mee?"

"Oh don't call me that, you idiot," Meetra said, chuckling despite herself. She raised her hand to her neck and then, the moment that her fingers touched bare skin, her neck seemed to ignite as if it were on fire. "Ow ow ow ow! OW! What is that!?"

Alek peered closer at the wound. "Lightsaber burn, from that last part. You really cut it close. I guess you're both visiting the medbay when we get up to the _Leviathan_." He considered for a moment before grinning. "That just leaves more time for me to explore the Ord Mantell club scene. Excellent. I'll call the _Leviathan_ for pick-up."

He stood and walked away, pulling out his comlink, leaving Revan and Meetra alone. Suddenly feeling exhausted herself, Meetra sat down beside her friend, carefully keeping her head straight to avoid irritating the burn. Her eyes drifted to the body of the man whom she'd just killed, but looking at it only made her heart beat faster, as if Lephim was still trying to kill her. Instead, to take her mind off it, she gingerly looked up.

The followers of Lephim, bereft of their leader, were a disorganised mess. A few stayed where they were, seemingly uncertain what to do, but most hurried out of the shaft back to the surface. It was a strange sight to behold, given how fearsome the cultists had seemed only a mere minutes ago.

"Shouldn't we go after them?" Meetra asked, glancing back at Revan, who just shrugged.

"They're no threat anymore. Extended exposure to this thing and Lephim's influence has weakened their minds. It's the only way I was able to affect their minds like that. The _Leviathan_'s marines will get them." Revan shot her a wry look. "Besides, I didn't pack a hundred stuncuffs. How about you?"

Meetra snorted. "Oh, very funny, Rev," she replied, then sighed. "You know, not many Jedi could have pulled that trick off. In fact, I think that only one Jedi in the entire galaxy could do it. The Council won't like that. That kind of power is scary, you know."

Revan shifted uncomfortably. "I know, believe me. I can't help it, though. I wasn't just going to die, or let you and Mal die, if I could help it. The Council will just have to live with it." He glanced at Meetra, smirking. "How about you, though? Beating an old battlemaster in a duel? They'll be calling you one of the best lightsaber artists in the Order after this."

She couldn't help it. Meetra laughed, unable to contain it, looking away to stifle her giggles. "Rev, come on! He had me beat five times over! I just got lucky, and you know it."

When Revan didn't respond, Meetra looked back at him, and to her surprise, he looked more serious than she'd ever seen him. "There is no such thing as luck," he said with quiet intensity, his blazing green eyes capturing hers. "You trusted the Force and it protected you. That is who we are. If I'm taking anything from today, it's that between the three of us, with the Force on our side, we can do anything. Absolutely anything."

Meetra glanced out at Alek, who was still talking on his comlink as he glared threateningly up at the remaining cultists, who cowered away from the sides of the walkway. Bald, tattooed, large and powerful, few save for her and Revan knew what a teddy bear he could be, or how fiercely protective and affectionate he was of his friends and allies.

"Together," Meetra said quietly, taking Revan's hand in her own, watching their friend work to take care of them.

"Together," Revan replied confidently, as if there had never been any doubt.


End file.
